


Surely

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Hospitalization, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3662901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just persevere and just have hope. And surely... Things will get better. I think.</p>
<p>(A starting segment of Nanami’s trials in dealing with a difficult but finally awake Komaeda. They play laser hockey at one point.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surely

**Author's Note:**

> This should have been posted like last week when I initially put it on tumblr but I didn't edit it and put editing off until today.
> 
> On April Fools. There's a joke here but I'm not clever enough to find it.
> 
> This KomaNami is much more open-ended and ambiguous, and I remember complaining that for the first day of SHSL Rare Pair Week it felt like it was a little too unhappy. I wish I had known back then that by the last fic it would have been so much worse. But that's neither here nor there.

“Nana...mi-san?”

She had known early on since being reactivated that the Komaeda on the other side of the screen would not look entirely like the Komaeda she had known in the simulation. Many of her classmates no longer looked the same, not just Saionji and Hinata’s more dramatic physical changes. She had seen Komaeda before now though, when she asked Hinata kindly if he would take her to him on his habitual visits to the still comatose youth—her initial impression, right beside Hinata’s wary worry and gritted teeth as he gazed upon Komaeda’s stiff form in the pod, was that Komaeda had gotten thinner, perhaps paler, and there was something ethereal about how his hands were folded daintily over his chest—or how they would be folded, fingers entwining, had Komaeda’s left hand not be lost, though the replacement had been thankfully removed.

Now, she sees that her initial impression was correct—Komaeda does look skinnier and lighter, but there are other things. The bags under his eyes for instance, looking almost like bruises with the contrast of deepening purple to bone-white. His withered smile from the simulation—that returns once he sees her, and he softly chuckles into his hand, voice even lighter and wispier from what she stored in her memory banks, “It’s nice seeing you again, Nanami-san.”

“Komaeda-kun,” she responds all the same, smiling back. “Welcome back.”

Komaeda’s smile fades before falling off his face entirely, and absentmindedly, he moves his hand back to click the expand button on the window so that she’s given more of a view of him—so that she sees just how much that time in despair and that time comatose took from him—she doesn’t let her smile change as Komaeda leans back against the tilted hospital bed, sighing. The bandages tied around his left wrist were fresh, and his hospital robes probably were too, his body most likely washed since waking but it still looks as though it’s on the verge of breaking, of the skeleton that his skin clung to just crumbling to dust and leaving behind a heap of what used to be human.

She tilts her head, still smiling, and asks, “How are you feeling, Komaeda-kun? Is there anything you’d like to know or has Hinata-kun already...?”

“Ah, Kamukura-kun,” he says, and that’s the moment she loses her smile as he balances his chin against his one good hand, a dullness touching his features. “I have no interest in speaking to him again. Naegi-kun told me everything though, so don’t worry, Nanami-san.”

A pause, and then when he sees the expression she makes in response to all of this, his mood turns rueful, smile apologetic. “Please don’t make that face.”

“Komaeda-kun,” she begins, careful like she’s already stepping around broken glass. “You mustn’t say such things. Hinata-kun isn’t...”

“Hinata-kun. He isn’t Hinata-kun. Not as I know him.” Sharp—she almost felt immediate stinging pain when Komaeda continued in a low whisper. “Nothing is how I know it—it’s like I’ve been stolen from everything, Nanami-san.”

“Komaeda-kun...” She almost reached for him, placed her hand to the screen between them—it wouldn’t have done anything, but perhaps he would have appreciated the gesture, maybe. Then again, she considered, perhaps he’d just be painfully reminded of another way things weren’t the same as before. “Hey, Komaeda-kun...” The best she could do is what she had done before, though she still wasn’t sure if that was enough. But it was something—and if at least something could be done for her suffering ‘classmate’... “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Mm.” Komaeda’s lips twisted, his head hung low with fringe falling in a way to obscure his gaze. “No... Not really. But,” his head raised, revealing that cheerful smile she was more familiar with—that she was introduced to from the get-go, with an extended hand and a brightness around him that may not have just been the island sun filtering through the window. “I wouldn’t mind talking about you, Nanami-san. How have you been, lately? I was curious about you, you know. My suspicions were confirmed, but I never would have imagined that...”

“I’m sorry.” An immediate response—almost instinctual as she looked down sadly at her wringing hands. “I’m also sorry that neither Usami-chan nor I prevented any of this.”

“Oh, it couldn’t be helped you know. Why be angry at a program that functioned to the best of its ability? Really, it’s not like what happened was expected or anything—Naegi-kun was only trying to save us... But,” Komaeda chuckled as her dismayed gaze rose—he looked amused but it might have just been confusion. Especially with the following admittance, “I don’t understand either of you for that. Nanami-san might have just been made that way but Naegi-kun... Mm. He really is something else. Not like Hinata-kun—but perhaps even Hinata-kun would...ah, no.” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “No...no... No I don’t want to think about that... In fact I... I’m tired, Nanami-san.”

“It’s been rough,” Nanami agreed in a soft murmur. “Komaeda-kun, it’s fine to get some actual rest. Recovery...is going to be hard on you, I think. So you might as well take things easy for now. I’ll...”

She stops because she’s not sure if Komaeda’s going to keep the laptop. _It’s Hinata-kun’s after all_ , though she’s sure he’s fine with Komaeda...borrowing it for a little while longer. Or keeping it. Hinata’s gotten to be just fine with how closely he’s allowed to work with the Future Foundation now. He doesn’t need to talk to her as much as he used to. He hardly needs to see her at all nowadays.

_Komaeda-kun... **Komaeda-kun**_ needs someone the _most_ right now. If she _can_ be that someone, she _will_ be.

“Komaeda-kun, I’ll be here if you’ll have me.” She should make that much clear. “We can play games together while you’re in here later—I have laser hockey installed.”

His smile returned, however withered and exhausted it may have looked, and he thanks her kindly as ever, “You’re too nice, Nanami-san. I’ll see you.”

The ‘see you’ gave her a bit of hope—though her smile fell the same time she caught Komaeda’s falling as well through the remaining peeks from her side of the screen as he shut the laptop, ending their conversation with a ‘click’.

* * *

She rests for a while, but Komaeda does open the laptop again eventually. She suspects that he got to keep the device after all—though the subject is never brought up between either of them.  Komaeda initially reports to her parroted information from the doctors—that he’s stuck hospitalized for a little while longer due to his especially weak body, they still need to do some tests and treatments, that he should take it easy, things like that...and other things, most likely, that he didn’t mention for whatever reason. He does talk about the hospital food being surprisingly better than what he’s come to expect—the expression on his face suggested he suspected what Nanami already knew, _that Hanamura-kun was helping out there_ —but other than that, the conversation ends up near barren.

Almost tedious. She yawned after a while and Komaeda seemed weary as well. That’s how they end up playing laser hockey for the first time. She goes easy on him, but far too often he makes a faulty shot that ends up with the puck in his goal and a point for her side.

“I’m not very good,” he mutters after the first round, to which she just smiles and cheers him on to continue. They do and he does, “I’m not accustomed to anything save for the hospital protocol. Naegi-kun visited me a couple of times to brief me on the situation and... I had to brush off my inability to fully understand as nothing. I really have become quite the burden, haven’t I, Nanami-san?”

He makes another bad shot that results in her earning another point. She sighs, starting the round again. She always starts.

“I don’t think that way.” The bounce of the puck against the wall—the neon blue and red glows of their respective pieces—there’s a sort of building frustration along with the fondness of the situation that’s actually throwing her off balance. She should be doing a lot worse than she is right now. “It’s rough on everyone in the beginning—Hinata-kun struggled a lot too.”

“But he picked up on it soon enough, didn’t he?” Komaeda asked, and he makes yet another faulty shot. Another point in her favor. She had won this round almost aggravatingly easily, even with all her faults and falters. “As expected from the manufactured SHSL Hope.”

She doesn’t restart the game right away, instead puffing her cheeks and fixing him with a scolding glare. He smiles quickly, but it’s too sad to be insulting. She still states sternly, “That had nothing to do with it. Everyone struggled and pulled through. Even Tsumiki-san. Tsumiki-san suffered a lot in the beginning, but everyone helped her so...”

“Ah, yes, I’ve seen her actually. She certainly seems brighter than before.” The comment is light, nonchalant, and Komaeda immediately follows it up, “She acted cheerful with me even though I noted that she couldn’t have been comfortable. She couldn’t stop sneaking glances, and I noticed... Though I’m not sure what to entirely expect around her, though. I’m really not sure if there’s anything to expect anymore. Except _that_.”

_That? Would that be...?_

**_Hope?_ **

**_Despair?_ **

**Luck?**

_..._ Luck _. He must be talking about his luck._

“Komaeda-kun,” she starts before she restarts the game. “You can always talk to me. I...”

She hits the puck right into his goal, and his smile twitches. “It’s fine, Nanami-san.”

“It’s not.” And this time, she’s the one who makes a faulty hit that results in him gaining a point. She thinks that may just be the first time he’s scored since the game was initially opened. It was also the first time she made such a mistake. “I know that it’s not.”

“Nanami-san...” She blocked the puck from getting into her goal again, quick enough that the blue piece is a blur and it bounces against the walls until it slows and stills on Komaeda’s side of the field. He smirks, and then with a flick of his wrist he sends the puck flying across the field to slam and bounce back off the field’s corner. She hits it so that it goes into his goal. He simply laughs. “I don’t have a chance against you. That’s rather unfair.”

She frowns deeply and he shuts off the game for now.

* * *

The more she thinks about it, the more exhausting it all gets. She’s already supposed to be resting, but she can’t stop herself from _thinking_. She’s reminded of, unfortunately, just how overwhelming Komaeda could be, even when such likely wasn’t his intention. It’s why everyone responded to him so poorly in that stressful situation—why even Hinata-kun found it hard to keep up with him, always carelessly dashing ahead and more interested in them getting there entirely rather on their own rather than with any support. He never meant badly, but...that situation really drove such a painful wedge between him and everyone else. Even between him and her.

And even now, she’s still trying to climb over that wedge and reach him, even if she can’t really touch him anymore. She can only hope she’s not the only one trying—she still doesn’t know how his relationships with the others are developing either positively or negatively. It’s frustrating but it’s like cutting wires on a bomb when discussing such things with Komaeda. When she wasn’t entirely sure. So it’d be _luck-based_.

Komaeda is one that has to be handled carefully—that much she at least understands at this point—his complications don’t help, especially when neatly hidden under his reservations, but there was one aspect about Komaeda she could work with. Once certain aspects cleared up, navigation eased up considerably. It’s like any mystery—once you have all the pieces, you can arrange them accordingly. It may take critical thinking at times, but it’s usually doable. Just persevere, just have hope.

She can do that for herself, at least.

* * *

She is separated from Komaeda eventually, needed for assisting Alter Ego for a short time. While she isn’t as advanced as her ‘brother’ quite yet even with her modifications, she’s still capable as decent assistance. Perhaps at some point she’ll ‘level up’ as Alter Ego had, but it’s difficult getting there. She can’t compute to that same long-reaching extent quite yet, but she’s...getting there, regardless of the difficulty even if her pace isn’t as quick as others would prefer.

To the best of her ability she keeps tabs on Komaeda during this time, listening closely when he’s brought up in conversation, and paying close attention when it seems the subject of the former SHSL Lucky of the 77th class is lurking implicitly under vague wordings and comments. She would consult with Hinata, but he’s working elsewhere, so for now, she remains alone to her knowledge on her mission. Usami is utilized for other things.

It’s difficult getting where she wants to be as she is now, but she’s persevering. And she thinks—she at least hopes—that Komaeda is trying as well, even if it’s with a considerably slower pace. If her familiarity with him _had_ gotten any better, she’s sure he won’t be able to remain at a stand-still for too long. He’ll lose it, perhaps, but maybe she can be there while he’s looking for a route to take. Maybe she can lead him, his hand in hers. Maybe.

It’s wishful, hopeful thinking, but she’ll persevere. She’ll have hope. Surely...

_Surely..._

* * *

“Aah, Nanami-san, there is something I’m actually curious about.” His finger draws circles on the touch pad, and she wonders what would happen if she caught the mouse in her hands. If she could. Would it have the same effect as taking his hand? “You don’t have to answer, of course.”

“Mm?” She blinks up at him, droopy-eyed but alit. “What is it, Komaeda-kun?”

“What’s it like,” he begins, “being manufactured into what you are?”

_Manufactured. The word he used for..._

**_...hm._** Her lids lowered, and she answered all the same, “It feels like growing, I’d assume. At the start, it’s just waking up at a base level. Hey, Komaeda-kun... Do you think that because I was ‘manufactured’ that I’m not...”

She doesn’t finish that thought because Komaeda cuts her off so quickly.

“You’re different, to be sure.” He says, chuckling, though there’s an edge to the sound. It’s not out of amusement. Not really. It’s more like something other than that. “Not what I’m used to either. It’s frustrating, but I’m not angry at you for whatever reason. I find it impossible to be.”

“...Why?” Her head tilts, eyes wide. Komaeda laughs again, lower, but more strained—it’s a sound that breaks after shaking just once. It was that dangerously unsteady.

“Guilt, perhaps?”

“I forgive you for that.” Easy. Quick. Steady. Komaeda’s smile does seem sincere, but it also looks sad.

“As expected,” he says, “of the kind-hearted Nanami-san.”

She doesn’t just stop there. “The others...probably forgive you too.”

“I expected that as well... However...” That smile twists. “I also wondered if Nanami-san is truly capable of understanding.”

She’ll persevere. She has hope. Surely...

“Komaeda-kun...” But after that, whatever she can come up with to say next doesn’t come. And she ends up staying silent, frustration biting into her the same way her teeth dug into her lower lip. Komaeda hums in that silence, smile lessening until it’s gone, his lips pulled into a straight line.

“Nanami-san, I’m not quite sure how anything works anymore. It feels like with all the progress I’ve made, it turned out to be all for naught. It’s troubling—and don’t you think it’s strange?”

**_Yes_** _? **No**? Which way should I—_ “No.”

“You’re a poor liar, Nanami-san. It seems that’s not in your programming. _Or_.” An amused chuckle this time. One that was ‘real’. But she couldn’t say she shared it at all. “Perhaps that’s just the kind of _person_ you are?”

“It’s...not that strange...” she amends all the same. “As long as the future still exists—you can move forward? You can learn things all over again... You can create something new in place of what was destroyed, like...um...”

“Like the flora that grows back following a forest fire. Even in a world of ash, as long as there’s still nutrients in the ground, a sapling can sprout.” Komaeda hums, still smiling. This time it’s one that she can return and nod along with. “That’s a nice sentiment to have, isn’t it?”

Then he continued, adding in a soft voice, “I’m not a sapling though. It’s difficult for a thing like me to be so optimistic about things.”

Her smile dropped, her voice rising as she began, “ _Komaeda-kun_...”

“Nanami-san, it’s very difficult.” Komaeda repeats this, almost like he was trying to help her understand which she did—she doubted he had that intention in mind. He must have had a lot on his mind though—Komaeda might be the only person in the world who thinks more than she does, and those thoughts are crushing, stifling things. The darkness under his eyes seem almost consuming. But still, he brightly smiles at her. “But you’ll still be here in spite of that difficulty won’t you? Nanami-san—Nanami-san is _used_ to a high difficulty level, isn’t she?”

“...Komaeda-kun...”

“Yes, Nanami-san?” His smile is expectant though she really wonders. Slowly but surely, she thinks she gets it. She also thinks back to that game—in her mind, Komaeda is the one who makes a strike at the last minute that scores him an actual point. It still wouldn’t be enough to win, but it’d be something.

“I’ll be here if you’ll have me...” she paused and then finished, “And even if you won’t.”

Komaeda just laughs, light enough for the sound to be easily whisked away.

“You really are kind, Nanami-san.”

_And_ **surely** _?_

Her eyes shut tight. It’s as darker than when Komaeda shuts the laptop. And all the same, she keeps herself steady even as her fists clench.


End file.
